Needs a Name.

I really have any idea what to call this so far, but I'm open for any ideas! I got board and was in the mood to write and well, this topic was off the top of my head, so yep. Feel free to criticize! I won't get mad, only a little bit if anyone says it sucks.

Please note that I'm not used to writing in present tense, or future tense, so this is... Erm, interesting!

No Name

all copyright to Sara N. Gilbert

Chapter One

“You're so self centered.” I whisper as I sit down at the dining table in our home. My hands were shaking, though I try not to give it away. I move my chair closer to the table when he comments about something to drink. As I poured the wine I can see my husband mumbling to himself. He glances up at me after I finish pouring his drink, though his eyes just stare into mine as if there wasn't much else he needed, though I knew otherwise. I want so badly to ask him to stop drinking. I just want us to be happy again.

“What did you say?” He asks me as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Look, if you have something to say you say it.” He says as he glares at me, his stare was hard and unforgiving.

I shake my head, “No, I have nothing to say.” I must have given it away with the fear that clouded my blue eyes.

“You have that... Look.”

“What look?” I ask quietly as I pick up my fork and take a bite of my salad. Oh God, I can feel the feeling in the pit of my stomach returning. It makes me nauseous every time it hits.

He stands and sweeps his hand across our small wooden dining table, making his wine glass tumble to the floor. It shatters and I jump up to clean it. The last thing I need is to get on his bad side.

“Look what you made me do!” He snaps, grabbing me by the back of the neck and holding me firmly there.

All I can do is whimper without making him even more mad. “I'm sorry...” I whisper, holding my my stomach with both hands. I felt like it needed more protection than the rest of my body did. I was scared, and when he didn't reply, that fear doubled. He shoved me into the china cabinet, which gave me the time to grab a knife, before he could get to me. “Stop!” I demand. My heart... Slow down. My shaking becomes even more evident when he walks closer. I hold the knife out in front of me, as if to threaten him. Bad move. He lunges forwards and somehow maneuvers it from my hands. I can hear mt own cries- the way he was yelling at me and I somehow blocked it all out.

He slams me into the wall, the knife, my knife, pressed firmly against my throat. I can feel the cold mettle pressing tighter against my heated skin. “Please don't!” I cry as I wrap my fingers around his wrist. I try to push his hand away, the strange feeling becoming stronger, almost to the point I want to cry. “Please!” I finally push him away long enough to send me running up the stairs to lock myself in the master bedroom. I am paranoid. Can anyone blame me?

“Open the goddamned door, Erica!” He bangs on the door, knowing good and well I'm setting on the end of our bed with a gun in my hands. “I'm sorry.” He sighs, before calming down. “Please open up, so we can talk?”

I sigh to myself as well, before I get up and walk slowly to the door. Don't fall for it! He's lying... You know this, Erica. I think to myself as I stop walking. What is going to happen when I open that door? Will he kill me, or will he keep up this nice persona? I finally open the door and look up at him with unsure, soft eyes. I nod to him, answering his question before I move aside so he could walk in.

I'll need more before I can offer a name. I also noticed you like to use -ing verbs, I'm guilty of that too, I also found that every -ing verb can be replaced by a phrase.ExampleAs I poured the wine I can see my husband mumbling to himself.

ReplacementAs I poured the wine I can see my husband mumble to himself.Ta-da, this makes the text a little more firm and determined, if you're going for light and shy, to match Erica's personality, then you'd have to make it consistent throughout the rest of the book, or until she separates from her husband, if you were planning that..

I'm very, very bad about using -ing verbs. I've always been. I guess Its the easy way out for me... I'm going to go back over it and try to fix some of that, since you pointed it out I think I can find lots of other things I could write without using the -ing verbs so much.

But, it does make it better, or from what I see.

Honestly, I'm more of an artist. Writing is my weak point, which is why I write so much, because I'm trying to improve- sadly, I'm failing.